March on Young Soldier
by Asher Elric
Summary: Michael Corleone wants a normal life, however, he did not expect to get involved in a murder mystery at his college. Nor that it involved someone of his own family.
1. Chapter 1

Summary – Michael doesn't want to be involved with family business. What will his family think? and what will Michael do when he gets embroiled in a mystery at his school? can he solve it before something terrible happens to him and his new friends?

DIsclaimer -- I don't own a thing except the plot of this fic and the OC's.

* * *

**March on Young Soldier**

* * *

"What?" Sonny Corleone was livid, his black hair in a mess and his face almost red, he started yelling at his brother in Italian. Michael sat back in his chair and just let his brother go on, it was always better to let Sonny yell till he was out of breathe. Michael Corleone was the youngest of the Sicilian family. He knew that he would never succeed his brother to become head of the mafia family.

Though, technically, he wasn't even supposed to know that. His family had holdings in illegal gambling and drug trafficking. Michael was a "Citizen" which meant that he was an innocent bystander and "didn't" know half the things his family did. But, he did know, he was very much trusted.

Sonny was winding down – Paulie handed him a scotch of which Sonny drank quickly. Michael wished he could just get out of there. Usually after the yelling came the lecturing, he would also get it from his father who had hoped that his son would join the family "business" one day.

"Are you telling me that you want to go to college?" Sonny asked, marginally calmer than before.

"Yes, I want to see more than just the streets of Jersey and New York," Michael shrugged.

"You want to see more of the world? What kind of thinking is that?" Sonny was flabbergasted. He loved his little brother, he took care of his little brother. Hell, it had taken the family a very long time to come to terms that Michael was technically an adult. Michael had fought furiously against them for the freedom he had now.

"What would you rather have me do, Sonny? Run off and not tell you? That would be real mature," Michael said sarcastically.

"Of course not, but can't you go somewhere locally? Not stay in a dorm or something?"

"Sonny, I'm twenty-one,"

"Yeah, damn don't I know it," Sonny sighed as sat down. The den was quiet for a few minutes.

"Ma ain't gonna take this well," Sonny suddenly said.

"She was all right when I decided to get a drivers license, it was you who flew off the handle….again," Michael gave his brother a smile so that his last barb sounded more of a joke. Since he was the youngest, Michael had most of the restrictions put on him. Sure, Connie had a lot as well, but she was married and out of the house. Michael had to fight to move out and even then his father had some men scout out good places for his son. Then he went and rented a place and had only let Michael know the day after. He had moved out that same day to find the apartment in the best part of town and fully furnished and his fridge stalked.

"Pops wants you close, Mikie, he worries about you,"

"He can't worry forever, I've done less dumb things than you," Michael pointed out. Sonny gave a short bout of laughter at that.

"True," he had to agree.

Connie entered the room then, "Dinner's ready," she said. The boys followed her to the dining room. Every evening the Corleone family would gather at the house for dinner. Dinner was always at six in the evening and no matter how old the children got, that had always been the rule for them.

Carmella had made meat balls and pasta with bread and wine on the side. She served all her children heaping portions. She gave Michael an extra meatball because she could and because she thought he needed fattening up. Michael took this graciously.

"Pop, Michael has something to tell you," Sonny said. He had always done that whenever the youngest got into trouble or if Sonny had told Michael to do something and he was stubborn and wouldn't do it.

Vito looked up from his plate, he saw the look of consternation that passed by on Michael's face and the small victory smile that Sonny sported. He loved his children very much but sometimes the sibling rivalry got a bit much for him.

"What is it, Michael?" Vito asked.

"Pop – I want to got Dartmouth College," Michael said, knowing that he had to tell his father sooner or later and now was probably a good time because his father wouldn't be tied up with family business. Sonny probably knew that too and since it had to do with his little brother, had decided to bring it up now instead of later.

"Ah, but haven't you all ready had enough schooling?" Vito asked.

"Well, I've been talking to the guy's from high school and they say that you can't get a good job without a college education," Michael explained. Thought it really wasn't the truth, some of the guy's he used to hang out with thought it was for rich kids. Michael had always been on the outside during his school years, because he had better clothing than the other kids. Even though it was a school for the children of the rich.

Vito hummed as if he were considering all of his son's explanation. However, he knew why Michael wanted to leave. Michael hadn't understood what his father did, and when he found out had reacted a way that Tom and Sonny hadn't expected. Michael was the black sheep of the family. He liked boring American women, and he drove the speed limit. He had no criminal record whatsoever. Mainly from lack of trying.

"I see, and you need some money from your father?" Vito asked.

"No, no, pops, I have the money…I'd just like your blessing, you know…to do this," Michael explained. Michael knew that his father would pay for his college tuition but Michael didn't want that hanging over his head. Connie all ready asked for too much money from their father and Michael didn't want to be a burden.

He always felt like a burden because he didn't bring any money in to the family business. He worked a boring office job, nothing much to say about it, but he did manage five hundred a month. He had saved for a year to get the first year of tuition. Including dorm and his boss had transferred him to the Dartmouth office.

Vito "hummm'ed" again. He would have paid his son's way through college.

"You have my blessing," he nodded. Michael gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, pops," he whispered.

Dinner was unusually quiet after that.

* * *

Carmella couldn't get to sleep that night.

She knew why.

Yes, Michael was going away. For a long time and he wouldn't make it to dinner with them every evening like he was. He was going far away and she would miss him, terribly. Vito knew what he was doing, and Carmella trusted him.

She sighed when Vito came in to bed. He did the same thing he had done every night before going to bed. He would kiss his kids good night, he would take a shower, and then he and his wife would chat before going to bed.

No it was to have a glass of scotch, take a shower and then chat with his wife. For the longest time after the children had moved out of the house, he had peeked into their rooms for about ten minutes before going on with his nightly ritual.

"Vito…?" she called.

"Yes?"

"Why does Michael want to leave?"

Vito knew that would be the first question out of his wife's mouth.

"He just wants to see the world," he replied quietly in Italian.

* * *

**Three Weeks Later…**

Michael drove his old car up the paved road to the college. Dartmouth college was huge, with three dorms for both sexes and three buildings where classes would be held, it would be easy to get lost. Thankfully, Michael had been sent a map with instructions as to signing up for a dorm and to get the room numbers for his classes.

There were large green area's with pick-nick tables and huge oak trees. It would be a nice place to study when the weather would permit it. The buildings were made out of brick, and the main building had huge white pillars that held the roof up. Almost like and old plantation, Michael was very pleased with his choice of schooling.

He parked his car and with brochure in hand made his way through the crowds to the main building. Inside, the floor was marble and there was a huge picture of Sir, Arnold Dartmouth who had started the school for his eldest son, Wilmer Wallace Dartmouth. Who was actually illiterate, but not a lot of people knew that.

There was a long line to the front desks, and Michael took a place at the end of it. Casually he leaned up against the wall since the line wasn't moving an inch. Around him students gossiped and talked to one another, the girls giggled if there was a particularly handsome guy around. Behind him, someone tapped his shoulder, Michael turned around to see a young man about his age, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt.

"Hey, Dude! I'm Mark, what's you name?"

"Michael,"

"This is so cool! What do you think about the weather?" Mark asked.

"It's always cold in the autumn, no surfing I'm afraid," Michael remarked.

"Dude! You're funny!" Mark gave a bark of laughter.

"I suppose," Michael shrugged.

Mark turned to talk to someone else he knew. Michael was glad; he never was good talking to other people. Even at parties he liked to keep to himself. Which annoyed his father and brother but Michael couldn't help it. It was just the way he was.

It took the secretaries of the school three hours to get past the hundred and fifty students before Michael, their computer system had gone down five minutes before they could take care of Michael and they all had to wait for another hour for the systems to be restored. After that, Michael was able to move into his dorm.

He knew someone within the family had to have pulled some strings to get him a dorm which housed just one student. Usually these were reserved for the big wigs, the student's whose families had given money to the school or had received some sort of reward. He had a wonderful view of the campus and could clearly see the administration building of which he had just left. The room had a queen sized bed, a student desk, a dresser and a closet. On the desk was a small coffee pot.

Michael unpacked the two suit cases he had and made up the bed before making a trip to the book store. The student book store was across the campus from his dorm building, it was a ten minute walk that Michael found to be enjoyable. Students milled about at the book store and the cafeteria.

With his list of classes in hand he searched for the books for each class. In the end it was a five hundred dollar bill. Books were expensive, but Michael had saved up for only one year of college. He hoped he could come up with the money over the summer months. His last and final resort would be to ask his father.

Which he really did not want to do.

* * *

Dinner that night had been just as it used to be. But only two of her three children had shown up on time, Michael's place was set for him, but he never arrived. It would have been hard for him to do so since he was now living four hundred miles away, in another town and another life.

Michael had wanted his life to be normal ever since he found out what his Father did. He never judged his father for it, and his love never decreased, he still respected Vito and his mother, and he still loved his brother and sister as much as he ever did. He would, however, avoid the study unless called there by Vito or Sonny and when talking to the them who would stomp through the house, subjects would revolve around mundane things.

Everyone knew that Michael was a "Citizen" by his own choice. No one ever blamed him for it. Though some of the other mafia families thought it was disrespectful and that he should take his place within the Corleone family, or their own.

Sonny and Vito talked about mundane things as they always did, but no one brought up the fact that Michael was missing, it was easier to imagine that he had gotten stuck in traffic, rather than deciding to not come home for dinner.

* * *

A/N – This is my first Godfather fic. I don't know if I had gotten things together or not, but don't worry, I do have a plan for this fic. It shan't be too long though. And I have a plan for a sequel if this get good reviews.

So, please, review fir me!


	2. Chapter 2

**March on Young Soldier**

**Part 2**

* * *

"When will we see you again?" Connie's voice sounded despondent in Michael's ears. It was late at night, classes would begin the next morning, but Connie had been the only one awake to answer the phone. Apparently, she and his Mom had been taking turns sitting in the foyer by the family line. 

"I'm not sure," Michael replied gently.

"Mom misses you. During dinner she always glances at your spot," Connie said.

"I know, I miss her, and you a lot,"

"Than why not come back?" Connie asked, Michael could hear the hope in her voice. He sighed, knowing that he couldn't.

"I can't, I'm sorry Connie. I thought about this for over a year, I need to do this. I need to show pops that I can be something other than…well…you know," Michael said.

"What's your major then?" Connie asked.

"I'm not sure, I like history, so I thought I'd get a major in that,"

"A history major isn't going to pay the bills," Connie sighed as well.

"I just have to get a cushy job at Harvard then," Michael joked. Connie giggled a little.

"I'll let Mom, Sonny and Pop know," Connie replied.

"Don't make any promises for me, I don't know when I can next get back up there," Michael said.

"Sure, I understand,"

Connie cut the connection, Michael knew that she wasn't happy with him because she didn't say "good-by, hope your classes are interesting!" or something before the line went dead. Michael sighed and hung up the phone. Walking away from the pay phone, he noticed one other person in the parking lot.

Michael didn't get a good look at the person and it looked as if the other didn't notice him. The man (for Michael could make out that the man wore a nice suite) made his way to the administration building. Michael watched him disappear inside. Then he shrugged and returned to his dorm.

* * *

"Henry," the man said as he walked into the Dean's office. Henry David was the Dean of the school and was related to Sir Dartmouth, but only by a long line of second cousins. However it came out, he was busy going over some papers when the man walked in. 

"What are you doing here?" Henry asked, glancing up.

"The money you owe my boss," the man replied.

"I paid it, like always, the third of each month," Henry replied.

"He didn't get it,"

"Maybe the mail service is going slow, you know how these things get," Henry shrugged. The other took the liberty of pouring himself a scotch with soda before sitting down.

"My boss is extremely disappointed, you had better get him double the money you owe this month," the man said.

"Of course," Henry nodded. There was no point arguing over it.

"Good, I'll be back in two weeks, you had better have the money," the man said before he exited the room, leaving Henry to the darkness. Henry sat back in his chair. He didn't have the extra money, he also had to pay alimony to his ex-wife. He had to come up with some way to pay this man and his boss off.

Henry decided to not worry over it at this moment, surely the check would get there soon. He returned to his papers.

* * *

History 101 wasn't exactly a beginner class. Professor Harrison was one of those types who were excited easily and he loved to give the bloodiest details of the wars and punishments for crimes. Michael sat stoically at the back of the class. He took notes on everything, just for his own amusement – mostly he was glad to take so many notes on the class. There were a lot of details he probably wouldn't have remembered. 

Mathematics was probably the hardest for him. Figure seemed to fill page after page and page and Michael had to take a breather from it because he felt his brain turn to much. He was simply hopeless whenever his brain was mushy from figure. Maybe this was why his father hired an accountant, they could at least do this stuff all day and still know what they were talking about later on.

Literature was simply boring, and there was nothing much to say about English 202 – though, the teacher was interesting and the first day was just a recap about things from High School anyway. Michael answered a question or two but otherwise was rather tight lipped.

When lunch finally rolled around, Michael was more than happy to get out of the Literature/mathematics building. Ten minutes later, he ran into Mark, who still sported a Hawaiian t-shirt. His blond hair was in a low pony tail and he made a beeline towards Michael.

"Mickie! How are ya?" he called.

"Fine," Michael replied, he hated it when other people called him that. Only Sonny could call him that. But he was willing to let it go just this once.

"Come get lunch with me!" Mark said, and then preceded to drag Michael towards the cafeteria.

"Mark! Will you let go of me!" Michael said, but Mark had a good grasp on Michael's upper arm. He only let go when they were in line for Lunch.

"I'll pay since I invited you," Mark gave Michael a grin.

"Thank you," Michael opted to say, he didn't want Mark to hate him because he had wanted to eat on his own.

"So, where you from?" Mark asked.

"New York," which was technically the truth.

"I'm from Freemont in California,"

"Is it nice in California?" Michael asked.

"Sure is, wish this place was by the ocean. California had some nice waves,"

"Really? I haven't been there before,"

"You should come out with me this summer, I have a place by the beach,"

"Maybe, it depends on what family matters come up," Michael shrugged.

"Yeah, that's always important," Mark agreed.

Once they had their food, conversation turned to school and girls. Mark had a girl back in California who didn't want to commit till she was out of school. She told Mark to go to school wherever he wanted and that when they were done then they could get married.

"Bridgette doesn't want to marry anyone less educated than herself," Mark had explained.

"Sounds like she knows what she is doing," Michael said.

"Yeah, and she is a fine piece of ass," Mark said. Michael ducked his head.

* * *

Don Vito Corleone was not a happy man at this moment, he hid it well. 

"He didn't pay?" Vito asked.

"Nope, Bernard went to see him. But the guy said he wouldn't pay up. Bernard said he beat the guy, and after that said he'd get us the money as soon as possible," Sonny replied.

Vito wasn't sure exactly what he heard. He trusted his son, Sonny would never sell him out. But, Bernard was a different matter all together. For one thing, He spent money like water, and he had a terrible time paying off debts. Henry, on the other hand, had never missed one payment. He was always on top of things, and that had pleased Vito very much.

He had gone so far as to make Henry Godfather over Sonny and Michael if anything happened to himself or Carmella. This behavior did not sit well with Vito. Someone had to be lying and he had a gut feeling that it was Bernard and not his long time friend Henry.

"What do you want me to do, Pop?" Sonny asked.

"We'll wait, we shall see what Bernard has to say next," Vito replied with a cold expression. He hated it when ever people lied to him, he had ingrained it into his children's head to never lie to him or their mother. They could lie to anyone else that they wanted, just not to their parents.

Business went on like normal.

* * *

Michael was walking back to his dorm after running to the grocery store to pick up a few things. Mostly food since he was planning on an all night study binge. Studying wasn't his most favorite thing in the world, but he wanted his parents to be proud of him and he wanted to show Sonny that he could do something outside the family business. 

He was about to turn the corner when he heard voices. He stopped short.

"You got the money?"

"Yeah,"

"Does the Don know anything?"

"Just as long as neither of us say anything, than no, he doesn't and he won't,"

"And what do you plan to do if he does find out?"

"I have a contingency plan,"

"I hope it's a good one,"

"It is,"

A few moments later, the men had separated. It was lucky that neither came Michael's way because he was still behind the wall listening in on them. He had gotten much practice when he was a child about eavesdropping. He didn't feel sorry for listening in on this particular conversation. Something odd was happening, and for some odd reason, he was curious as to what it was.

Michael carefully continued on towards his dorm. He took a look around but didn't see anything suspicious. But he didn't take any chances. When he got to his dorm, he locked the door and took out an old pistol that his brother had given him just before he left for school. He made sure it was loaded before putting it in his desk. His study binge started with history.

* * *

"Man! I can't believe that you got a ninety-five on that test!" Mark said, waving his test paper around. Michael gave a snort of laughter. Mark was really amusing when he wanted to be. Or he was just amusing in general, Michael really couldn't decide yet. 

"I studied last night," Michael said.

"And it isn't even the half-mark yet!"

"So? Good grades has got to count for something," Michael shrugged.

"Yeah, a good job," Mark said.

"Indeed," _a job that does not involve killing or drugs or gambling! So, there Sonny!_ Michael had to agree with his new friend.

"Do you have a girl?" Mark asked.

"What? Why did you suddenly switch the subject?"

"I meant to ask you yesterday at lunch, but I never got the chance,"

"Well, no, I'm not interested at the moment,"

"Sure you ain't, and those girls aren't looking over here at this very moment!"

"What girls?" Michael asked.

"The ones over there…"

The girls in question were walking past the boys since they had taken to standing in the middle of the hall way. One girl had beautiful blond hair and a lovely smiled. Michael gave a small one back to her, the group of girls giggled and someone commented on how cute he was.

"I don't think you will ever have women problems," Mark said.

"Sure, just wait and see," Michael snorted.

* * *

He watched. 

He liked to watch and watching was his hobby. But this time he had a job to do. Not anything to do with a young woman he had a fantasy about, but the young man that his boss needed as insurance.

This young man was the son of the Mafia, though he did not know it, or wanted it. Michael Corleone was an innocent bystander. Someone that did not need to be involved in the business of his boss. But, that did not matter. What mattered was that when the time came, he could be easily assessable.

* * *

A/N – Please review! 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N – Just so you lot know, I have watched the movies and I got the first book by Mario Puzzo. It's great! I suggest you all read it. Anyway, the book makes my fic AU because I have set mine before Michael goes into the army, in the book he goes into the army and then to college. But I don't really want to change this since the whole Army thing really doesn't play much in this. But, there is going to be a prequel to hopefully make this right. **

**March on Young Soldier**

**Part 3

* * *

**

**"If fed ex and UPS merged, do you think they would be called Fed Up?"** Mark asked his friend.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Michael asked. They were walking across the campus on that bright sunny, Saturday morning. Their classes were late today because it was the weekend. They would arrive at their one class late that afternoon. They made their way towards the office building that also housed the auditorium where the dance, acting, speech and miming classes were held.

"What? You haven't thought of those sorts of things?" Mark asked.

"Well, yeah, probably…but not recently," Michael shrugged. Truth be told he found that he was a rather boring person, not amusing at all. Mark was very amusing, he didn't care what anyone thought of him, he would tell you what he thought and that was that. Amusing was the word for Mark.

"All right, describe yourself in three words," Mark said.

"Boring, boring, and bored,"

"Not past tense!"

"What? It's true?"

"Sure it is, and I'm queen of America," Mark muttered.

"I didn't know you liked to dress in drag!"

"Not a whole lot of people know it either!" Mark replied.

As they circled the building they came across a rather shocking sight. Where the afternoon would have probably not seen more than five students at the fountain there was a totally different scene to behold. There were at least three police cars, several men dressed in black and taking notes…and one man floating face down in the fountain. The fountain bubbled dark red. The man was probably shot.

Mark and Michael were stopped by a detective when they decided to get a closer look at what was going on; he was Italian. Had the accent and the looks.

"Hello, I am Detective March; can I ask you two a couple of questions?"

"Sure," Michael said.

"Did either of you meet the dean of this school?"

"No, I never met him. Seems to me that a Dean never meets the students," Mark said.

"Same here, I never met the guy, but I have heard of him," Michael said.

"From who?"

"My father, he and the Dean did a few business ventures," _all legit_ but Michael didn't tell the detective that.

"Ah, did either of you notice anything unusual?"

"Er – the cheese smelled funny the other day…"

Michael elbowed him in the side; "I had the pleasure to come across a couple of guys in the parking lot. They didn't see me, but they were talking about someone's Boss asking questions and if they could swing it, that the Boss wouldn't know what hit him till it was too late. Then they walked away,"

"Is there any details you can tell me?"

"They came from New Jersey, the accent you know,"

"I see, and is there a number that I can reach you by…?"

Michael wrote down his name and number in the detectives note book. Mark followed his friend's example.

"Thank you," the detective said before disappearing towards the other cops.

"Gee, who would have wanted to murder the Dean?"

"I don't know, but I think I am going to have to find out," Michael said as he turned and started walking away.

"What?" Mark turned and then he had to run to keep up with his friend.

"Are you crazy? Ain't you supposed to let the cops do their work and something?"

"There is more to this than meets the eye," Michael replied.

* * *

Sonny didn't know what to say; his little brother was on the phone and he had said the worst four words that he did not ever want to hear from his brother's mouth.

"Can you repeat that?" Sonny asked.

"There was a murder, someone murdered the Dean,"

"Shit,"

"There's more, I think the – er – the Mafia…" at this Michael whispered, "are involved."

"Shit,"

"I thought you'd like to know, and, I came across a couple of guy's in the parking lot two nights ago – they were talking about someone's Boss – sounded as if they were double crossing them or something,"

"Michael…."

"Sonny….I'm fine, I was gonna tell you and then leave it,"

"Good, don't do anything, lest we find you at the bottom of the lake or something,"

"Great, thanks for that little image,"

"Just doing my job as a big brother,"  
"Right, look, I gotta go," Michael said.

The line was cut; Sonny hung up his end as he turned to the room of men. His father hadn't said anything. Sonny wondered if the phone call from his brother was a curse or a God send.

"Michael corroborates the story though he don't know it," Sonny said.

"Henry is dead, what does that mean?" one of the random fellows asked.

"It means that there is more to this than meets the eye. Should I send a couple fellows down there to see what's going on?" Hagen asked.

"Yes, and send a couple others to watch out for Michael," Vito said.

"Sure," Hagen nodded his head and got on the phone.

Vito sat back in his chair as he watched his son spur on by the orders. He wasn't exactly worried over Michael but seeing as Michael was the youngest…he knew he had to let Michael grow up and live his own life. However, there had been a part of him that always wanted his son to be protected. Sonny was different, Sonny could take care of himself, Sonny understood how the world worked and he worked hard to make it work for him. Just as Vito had to learn when he was a young man and had just arrived to America as a small boy.

In some ways – Michael reminded Vito of that small boy from Italy; the little boy who had lost everything and had to rebuild it once again. And look where Vito had taken the family, he had a notion that one day Michael would take his place as Godfather of the family.

Though he hated to think that Sonny wouldn't be getting that chance.

* * *

Michael knew that he shouldn't be staying up so late. Class started at nine in the morning and even though he was a night owl, there was a time and place for that. Right now, he was trying to calm his nerves enough to sleep. He was worried, but he was worried for another reason other than that of his brother and father.

He was closer to the action, and he knew it. He had to make sure that he stayed happily in the animosity of the student body – but, that did not help him out much when he caught site of someone watching his window…this man seemed to be short and stout. In the dark of the night Michael couldn't make out the features of this man, but he could see the smoke from the cigar the man smoked. Michael would have known if this man had been sent by his father to keep an eye on him. His father would have picked someone Michael knew and trusted.

This man was neither and that was what spurred Michael on to shutting the window, locking it tight and drawing the blinds. He wished he could nail that window down but that option would have to be fixed later. Now, he had the lights on was sipping a glass of black wine to help his nerves. With that afternoon's action, it was only a matter of time before something else happened, and Michael wasn't sure if he could handle it or not.

* * *

Jerry Streep was a large man with a double chin and a bald head. His suit was the best of the best, not a knock off of Armani, but the genuine thing. Michael took one look at the man and decided he was a no good lazy lout. Streep had probably paid a lot of money for this cushy job and had probably asked for more money than the other Dean had gotten.

"Michael Corleone, your family is powerful," Streep started.

"How'd you know that?" Michael figured there was no point in hiding it. It was set up this way, him and Streep alone in the former Deans office. Streep deciding what to get rid of; it was despicable. Michael felt hot anger in his chest at the disrespect this man offered his father just by speaking his family name. Michael was sure that if his father were here, Streep would be brown-nosing, he seemed to be the sort to do that.

"What do you want?" Michael asked.

"I want a piece of the action, is that too much to ask?" Streep asked.

"Yeah, since I have no standing within the Family," Michael said. He sat in a chair while the fatter man perched on the former deans plush desk chair. Michael wanted to hit the smirk off of that mans face so badly he felt as if he could do it right then and there.

"What action? I'm a _Citizen_," Michael said.

"That's exactly why, you never ask anything of your man, so then, I extend you all four years of college and in return, you have your old man give me some of the narcotics business he has," Streep explained.

_There is only one problem, _Michael thought, his father didn't do drugs. He did gambling mostly. No doubt his father would have this fat man whacked before Michael had any proposition out of his mouth. Michael started to hate Streep more than he hated the fact that he was a Corleone.

"I can't do that," Michael shook his head and glared at the older man. Streep, who had thought his plan was going perfectly, stopped for a second to stare and Michael. Michael Corleone was handsome in a feminine way, he had the air of a man who knew what he was doing and he Streep was almost sure that Michael would rather just have him killed than do any favor.

"Michael, Michael, I know how it is, trust me on this. Once our done here you could go anywhere in the world, and you know it. I have contacts, do this for me and not only will I get you the full four years here, but a Doctorate as well and then a good job. One outside of the family," Streep said with a concerned frown. Michael didn't know what to say or to think for that matter. Did Streep honestly think this plan would work? Did he honestly believe that Michael was desperate enough to take him up on empty promises? Obviously he was; "Michael, just so you know – I will get what I want,"

"I hope that isn't an empty threat," Michael stood, "Not even my father gives out empty threats," and with that he turned on the man in search of the exit. Streep gave him a simpering smile as Michael left. It made him want to kill the man.

* * *

Luca Brasi, the best hit man the Corleone family had, was the only one trusted with Michael's safety. Luca had been the strong arm for a long while and almost everyone feared him, he had babysat the kids once or twice when neither Vito or anyone else had a choice, he had played war with Sonny and dolls with Connie, but Michael didn't ask him to play, all he did was sit on the couch and read a book. Though, it didn't go to show that Michael was a push over, Freddie almost always had to beat Michael once a week because the kid had spouted off some nonsense or other.

Michael was quick though, and he knew when to let Freddie win. Not to say that Michael let Freddie win all the time, he could win if he really wanted too. But Michael was not prone to punching a person just because he was mad.

Luca was brought out of his musings as the kid he had just been thinking on came out of the office, Brasi was waiting for Michael and when the kid finally saw him – for a few moments he had been lost in thought – the youngest Corleone gave him a small smile.

"Uncle Luca, how are you?" Michael asked.

"Good, Michael, and you?" Luca hated pleasantries, but it would have been disrespectful not to follow Michael's lead.

"Just had a conversation with the New Dean," Michael shrugged he and Luca continued on down the hallway.

"Was it good?" Luca asked.

"I'm not sure yet, I can tell you this though, it wasn't the best," Michael said. They continued on in silence, it was Saturday and it was late, however, Luca and Michael made the four hour car drive to the Corleone estate in Up Town New York State. Carmella was waiting for her youngest and hugged him as soon as he came up the steps. She didn't say anything about the murder – she probably didn't know much. Black wine was poured with dinner and it was a lively affair.

It was only after that Vito called Sonny and Michael into his study. Brasi and Hagen were also in attendance. Michael accepted a glass of port from his father.

"I heard you met with this Streep fellow…?" Vito asked.

"Yes," Michael said shortly.

"Tell me, what is he like?" Vito pressed.

"I felt like hitting him for one, thinks he's the best thing since the invention of coffee. He seems to think I have more influence on the family, which I don't, by the way," Michael said. Sonny rolled his eyes while Michael ignored his older brother.

"Michael, what did he want?" Hagen asked.

"Wanted a bit in the narcotics action he thinks you lot has," Michael replied. Vito sat back and gave a look towards his Councilor.

"What did he offer you?" Sonny asked.

"Four paid years at Dartmouth," Michael shrugged. Then he stood, putting the used cup on the coffee table. "I'm not going to do it though, he knows he can't get anything out of me," Michael said.

"Son, I don't think you should go back," Vito said.

"I won't…if you order it," Michael said quietly. Vito looked at his son before sighing. The situation wasn't one that meant for Michael to be sequestered at the house.

"I won't do that; I believe you may be safe," Vito said.

Sonny desperately wanted to say something, but wasn't exactly sure what to say or how to say it. To be honest, he wanted to lock Michael up in his bedroom and never let him out again. It must have been a Sicilian thing for Mama and Pop was also entertaining that idea. As it was, Michael was to stay the night and go back to the school Sunday evening. With Luca Brasi in two, that was not to be negotiated.

"Pop, don't worry about me. Nothin's going to happen because if it did the other families would obviously not support those responsible," Michael said. It was true, Vito had to give his son that much. He nodded and waved at his son, Michael lent down and hugged his father, then he gave Sonny a pat on the back before leaving the study.

"Pop, what are we gonna do about him?" Sonny asked.

"Brasi is going to watch Mikie, we'll have to see where it goes," Vito said. Sonny didn't say anything else, he knew that he would not get anything out of it.

* * *

A/N – Okay, I really don't like this chapter. But I hope you lot like it. Please tell me what you like and what you hate. 


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